


Revival

by T_with_Smutley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bloodlust, Character Death, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Horror, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6986959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/T_with_Smutley/pseuds/T_with_Smutley





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 

The night was calm and silent. Its stillness withheld a sense of foreboding for the inhabitants of the gargantuan mansion who were slumbering away. They were blissfully unaware of what was stealthily approaching their house.

 

A young man with shocking blonde hair laid spread eagled upon his huge bed. His legs tangled carelessly in the blood-red satin sheets as he lie prone on his back and arms encircling a luxurious down pillow to clutch at his chest. He slept soundly, his hair sticking out every which way. Breathing deeply, he occasionally softly snored. His foot twitched intermittently.

 

The man’s room was dark save for the crescent moon that peeked through his heavy, lavish curtains that were drawn back to allow the moonlight through.

 

A flash of magical luminesce briefly lit the darkness of the night at the front door of the mansion. There was several security precautions set up, but they were child’s play. The family had clearly grown lax and unguarded after a couple of years of no disturbances to their more-or-less peaceful existence. The intruder smirked arrogantly at the oblivious persons within. They would not know what hit them.

 

Skulking around in the gloom, the trespasser made his way to the master and madame’s quarters of the house. He would deal with the young whelp later. He wanted to take his time with the bloody bastard. Such an affliction upon this world should not have even crowned out of his mother’s womb. His lip curled up in utter repugnance at the very thought of the boy. Shaking the distracting thoughts from his head, he turned to the matter at hand. He needed to focus lest he should fail his task.

 

Sleeping in a huge bed to fit four, were the fair-haired couple that ruled the residence. Enveloped in each other’s embrace, they slumbered, completely untroubled. Their faces smooth from any worry lines to crease them. Silently he waved his wand, a wordless curse seeping out from the tip, expressed only by a glaring red hue. The curse took solid form and descended upon the wood floor boards with an almost inaudible thud. A small yet deadly snake slithered up one of the bed’s legs and under the sheets.

 

The perpetrator sunk into the shadows of the room to ensure the deed was done. All he had to do was wait. It didn’t take very long.

 

A blood-curdling shriek sliced through the night air. The hissing serpent could be heard in the tangle of limbs and sheets. Sounds of a bodily struggle and grunts alighted his ears. He watched with malicious glee as the condemned couple fought against their small assailant.

 

The woman slumped to the ground with a nauseating thump, her white gold mane haloing around her. Her appendages twitched occasionally as the brain fired off its numbered electric signals.  He knew she was dead without even bothering to look at her. He waited as the man fought despairingly against the venom that he was rapidly succumbing to.

 

Stepping out from the umbra, the fated man’s eyes widened with realization as he took in who had assaulted him and his now late wife. The long reptile,  now having completed its grim task,  slithered obediently to its master. The wand absorbed the scaly body.

 

Acknowledging his death hastily approaching, he dragged his body made useless from the poison. It quickly was disabling his mobility. He could only use one arm as the other laid limply against his side. He reached out to her face, and caressed, marveling at the residual warmth that still occupied his love’s expired form. The intruder looked on with revulsion.

 

The dying man kissed the warm lips of the one he so cherished. However, not to be completely outdone, using the last of his strength, he shouted as vehemently as he could muster, before his eyes rolled back into his skull. Foam bubbled up from his mouth and he jerked violently for a minute before stilling for good.

 

Leering at the lifeless couple, the figure kicked at the man’s side. Grinning in satisfaction when he heard a rib snap, he casually moved to straddle the man. He eyed the deceased body before socking it square in the mouth. Pulling his fist back out, he didn’t even flinch when the dead’s teeth bit into his skin, running small rivulets of crimson down his hand. Over and over he punched the face until it was scarcely discernable. Wrapping the long hair around in his grasp, he yanked as hard as he could, sated when he heard an atrocious ripping sound of flesh from bone. He had not thought of scalping, but indulged in his sick, contemptible amusement. Shaking the hair and bits of scalp from his hands, he turned his focus on the deceased woman.

 

What he had in mind for her carcass would even make the most hardened stomachs turn in abhorrence. He turned her over gently, stark contrast to what kind of viciousness he had shown her husband.

 

Clothes tore as the culprit ripped her nightgown in the front, baring her voluptuous breasts before him. He reached out a quaking hand to cup the still heated bosom. Groaning, he bent down to cover it with his mouth when a deranged snarl froze the blood in his veins.

 

Turning his head slowly to the new threat, his mouth opened in a noiseless scream at the one before him.

 

In the doorway was the largest bipedal beast the killer had ever seen. The white monstrosity loomed high over the man like some avenging angel. Green eyes beamed crazily at him, enraged and completely out of his mind in distress at the grisly scene. A feral growl emanated from its throat. It promised retribution and ferocity at the crime so hatefully committed.

 

The blazing green eyes were the only thing the man saw before the creature’s massive talons savagely separated the murderer’s head from his shoulders, tendons snapping back like rubber bands, muscle shredding, and the blood splattering everywhere.

 

The ivory monster became scarlet as it went berserk, gutting and disemboweling the one who had dared harm its family. It lifted the body above its head and with a deafening roar, it split the man’s carcass in twain.

 

It went into blood thrall, plunging into madness, it tore and shred into the one who violated their happiness, the one who took away the ones it loved,  the one who very nearly desecrated it's mother’s body and made a mess of its father. Soon entrails covered the once immaculate floor boards, barely distinguished from the crimson liquid that had sprayed everywhere in its frenzy.

  
Abruptly, it ceased its rampage and stared despondently at its surroundings. Walking numbly to the couples’ bodies, it whined pitifully. Dropping to its knees, it covered the woman’s chest and brought both the man and the woman into a grief-stricken embrace.  Lifting its blood caked maul, it howled its anguish into the oblivion of the horrific night.


	2. Chapter 1

Hermione eyed around her nervously. Never in her life had she been in such a precarious position.  It was terrifying. It froze the blood in her veins with fear. However,  she had to look calm and composed, lest she give herself away. 

 

Things had gotten dangerous. Just when Hermione had thought she was safe from the terror that had once griped the Wizarding World in its iron clad fist, it reared its ugly head once more. Although, unlike last time,  the subject matter was different. It was no longer Muggleborn and Blood Traitors against Purebloods and the Dark Lord. 

 

No, this was very different. This time, while Harry and Ron could assist her, she was very much alone in her predicament. She had not even uttered a word to the men over her problem. Her own best friend,  Ginny,  had no idea just what kind of volatile information Hermione kept within the dark recesses of her brain. She was not afraid of her friends’ judgement on her.  She knew they would accept her no matter what.

 

To acknowledge what she was brought about her key issue to light.  It made her vulnerable. Showed her Achilles’ heel. This was not something Hermione was ready for. She had only admitted it to herself not even a month ago in the midst of this god awful war that had once not concerned her. 

 

Hermione sat in the middle of Diagon Alley, in front of her favorite fish and chips place. Reading the Daily Prophet, she kept a watchful eye out for anyone who might suspect what she was. Though it was a gorgeous autumn afternoon, Hermione couldn't relax.

 

The Prophet had listed the Disappearances, and bodies found just like the events leading up to the Battle of Hogwarts. It, of course, only gave the Ministry's perspective, albeit biased and very incorrect as it had been last time. It was enough to drive Hermione mad under the buckling stress. She had not had a decent night's rest in weeks. 

 

Nodding in a polite greeting to a passing witch,  she tried to keep a nonchalant air about her. Act as if nothing was wrong and that she was going to pieces inside. 

 

Unlike last time the public seemed more at ease with the individuals that were being hunted. Almost like they were glad or relieved that her kind was getting killed.  That prospect itself was frightening. 

 

Matters didn't help much when she had to defend one of her own in court. Hermione had not heard many details and for one reason or another, the Department of Law Enforcement was not giving her any either. That, in itself, was bizarre and concerning.  Only thing for certain she knew was there had been three murders. 

 

Ghastly and horrific, most of the public thought the “beast” was to blame and didn't give the trial a second thought. However,  to Hermione, something didn't smell right,  something was off about this whole affair. She knew it deep in her bones the blame was not wholly on the accused. Although while she mulled over this, she didn't dare utter her suspicions to anyone. Everything had ears these days. 

 

Sighing heavily,  she rose to her feet.  Hopefully her client would be cooperative. Most were calm and collected, but they also didn't have three murders hanging over their heads like a guillotine.

 

Walking over to the nearest Floo Powder portal, Hermione reached inside of a little green satchel that hung at her side for the powder. She stepped into the grate and stated clearly, “Ministry of Magic!”

 

Emerging from the harmless green flames, she fell into place with the river of witches and wizards. Hermione was careful not to act too unusual as she silently strode near the lifts, even though she was scared witless. Clambering on one, she was quickly situated against the back and waited for her floor. 

 

Most of the witches and wizards had disembarked at their respective floors by the time the lift arrived at Hermione’s floor. Stepping out into the long, dark corridors, she made her way to courtroom two hundred and thirty five. 

 

Hermione paused for a brief moment outside the door. An ominous slab of dark wood loomed at her, daring her to open it. She was wrought with nerves, almost hyper-ventilating. She didn’t quite understand why she was so afraid, she had been here at least a dozen different times. Reaching out, she hesitated a moment more before pushing the door in and walking through the threshold.

 

The courtroom was almost vacant, save for a couple of witches twittering away in the jury seats and, was what she had assumed, the prosecutor. This was normal for Hermione as she usually was very punctual. Hastening over to her place at the defense’s side of the room, she began to take out her items in preparation of the court proceedings. Hermione had never felt so incapacitated for a trial before. She had next to no data to go on. Hoping against all hope that the judge would permit time to review the details of the case, Hermione looked around bleakly. She noticed a few more wizards and witches had trickled in while she had been absorbed in her own little bubble.

 

People milled in slowly until everyone was account for. 

 

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Pretts,” a guard spoke up from his corner.

 

Waltzing through the door, a young judge made his way to the bench. Hermione eyed him in wary curiosity. She had not seen him before in the courts, so she suspected he was new. She would have to test out the waters with him before utilizing her tactics. 

 

Hermione was not much of a strategist when it came to games or wizards’ chess, but she was among the greatest when in regards to laws. She slid on a poker face and waited patiently for things to begin.

 

“Now before we start, I would like to pass out the file on today’s case. It was agreed that since the subject matter and the defendant would make this case very controversial, the details over the the murders have not been disclosed to anyone except the officers who first reported to the scene. I, myself, know nothing of the crime. We will be taking a few short minutes to debrief over the specifics. I do want to apologize for making this a very impromptu trial as it was out of my control. Please, counselors, do your best with the few tools you have been given. Hansdorf, please distribute these.” Judge Pretts gave file folders to the aforementioned guard, who proceeded to administer a file to each individual in the courtroom. 

 

Hermione anxiously waited her turn to get the file. Upon opening it she stared in alarm at the defendant’s slightly moving image.

 

A rugged face with pointed features gazed solemnly back at her. His white blonde locks were a little shaggier and disheveled than she remembered. They draped near the sides of his face. A five-o’clock shadow darkened his jaw and chin, in need of a fresh shave.

 

Hermione would have remarked on his attractive masculine attributes had it not been for their unfavorable history.  Oh! But his eyes!

 

Cold grey eyes regarded the viewer intently from the picture. They were sharp and depicted a high intellect. However, the silvered orbs also expressed deep forlorn. Piteous grief and condemnation sat within their depths. It was almost as if he had already given up and accepted his fate to the abominable Azkaban. He had looked like he had been roughed up over the small number of years they had been away from Hogwarts. Had he not shown her so much animosity as an adolescent, Hermione would have wanted to smooth away the creases scoring his face. Shaking her head lightly at this yearning, she began to read the details and her mouth slowly gaped at the horrifying details printed out neatly on the paper. 

 

As much as her heart strangely wanted to go out to her old adversary and pity him,  she needed to steel herself. This man was cruel and heartless, but one not unlike the “creature” that she was, and she had been assigned to this litigation by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hardening rapidly, her resolve firming, she shifted her demeanor. Placing the file back down, Hermione looked fixedly at the judge with determination. She waited for the one person she did not want to see in her presence to step back into her life. This time, he would be very much at the mercy of her expertise. As much as she wanted to turn down the case, she knew that this one would be the key to getting her foot into the door. 

 

“Please bring in the accused.” 

 

Hermione did not notice when she held her breath. She wanted to see him. Gazing upon the face of her past tormentor would assist in riling her anger and would set her jaw. Placing a hand on the file absentmindedly, she leaned forward, eager to get a glimpse. Tiny black typed words peaked out from between her fingers. They signified the name of the person who used to vex her so. 

 

Draco Malfoy.

 

~~~~~~~

 

The doors in the back of the courtroom swung open and banged against the walls loudly. The room fell into a hushed eerie silence at the accused. 

 

Hobbling between two aggressive wizards with wands pointed at his downcast face, Draco ignored the room. Shackles bound his ankles and his wrists, leaving his feet to shuffle instead of stride comfortably across the room. He wore an old tailored suit. The suit still retained its classy air, but a couple of places had been worn and had started to become threadbare. His hair, which had grown past his chin, had been hastily combed back. His physique was wiry, but slightly drawn, like he had been malnourished only for the past few days. 

 

Draco was none too delicately shoved into a massive bird cage with inch long iron spikes pointed inward. One of those lethal looking barbs pricked his arm, bringing about a drop of blood. Glancing to the side from his lowered head at the wizard who had disdainfully pushed him in, a flash of gold appearing in his eyes, before going back to avoiding the courtroom. The wizard drew back slightly, fear crossing his features for a brief moment. He quickly glared in repugnance and anger at the incarcerated man when a hint of a smirk curled his lips.

 

“Counselor, I will give you a moment to discuss the proceedings with your defendant.” The judge nodded to Hermione, clearly wanting to dispel the aggression between the wizard and Draco. She nodded in turn. The room settled back into a small hiss of conversation.

 

Taking a deep, measured breath, Hermione got up and walked purposefully to the cage that held Draco prisoner. Her eyes trained on him while she thought of what to discuss with the captive man. 

 

He was taller than she recalled. She could almost peer into his face as he stood with his head bowed, chin lightly grazing his chest within the confines of his imprisonment. Studying his form, she saw the corners of his mouth lift as he sensed her regard.

 

How foreign it was for Hermione to have the once arrogant, loquacious male before her not even utter a word. Draco nearly appeared humble. 

 

“Draco Malfoy.” He didn’t altogether pull up his head, but he tilted his head to the side and looked up at her, the action causing his head to lift just slightly. He waited patiently for her to continue. Her heart clenched as she saw despair and defeat there, though she revealed none of her empathy as she settled into a poker face. 

 

“Granger.” He greeted her with a gravelly voice. 

 

“You are aware, of course, what your charge is?” He nodded.

 

“What will you plead?” He looked at her for a moment, considering.

 

“Guilty.” the word reverberated about in her mind. Her brows furrowed.

 

“Are you sure?” He shrugged.

 

“The scum who killed my parents is now dead himself. The blunt force trauma applied to my father suggests that a beast mauled him. They cannot explain my mother’s death except that she was bitten by a venomous snake on the right leg. My father has the same bite on his left forearm, but they immediately dismiss it from how much damage was done to the rest of his body. Since you are not asking me about the specifics of the case, I am going to assume you know I’m a werewolf. I’m sure, given your reputation, you can put two and two together.”

 

“Yes, I know that you are a werewolf. I had already known before I came here that I would be dealing with one, just as I had known a few vague details about the case. However, you had the best attorney in the Wizarding World defending you and others like you. Now, given that fact, are you sure you still want to plead guilty?” He gave her a long hard look for a few moments, taking note of her stance and countenance. Exhaling a deep breath and straightening, Draco looked down at her with an inexplicable expression.

 

“You can certainly try. I’m not a fool. I’m in no position to turn down anyone, I’m just giving you a fair warning that I may be a lost cause.” She glared as her own eyes flashed.

 

“Malfoy. You are a lost cause when you are rotting away in Azkaban. If that happens, then I will have failed you shamefully. I will probably resign as an attorney. My job is to make sure you are declared innocent.” Draco started as he did a double take at her eyes.

 

“...I  _ knew _ I smelled another in the room…” He regarded her, his nostrils flaring a little. The blacks of his eyes dilated while his nose twitched fervently. Her guise dropped in shock. Panic distorted her features at the dismay of her situation brought to light. It made it more concrete for her. Her eyes wild and pleading. She made a small show of exposing her jugular, hoping to Merlin no one saw her movements. That seemed to appease to the wolf within Draco and he calmed, his irises returning to grey and his pupils shrinking back.

 

“I beseech you to say nothing of my condition. We will not get anywhere if you say anything. They will think that we are in cahoots and will strike you down as guilty without even letting you plead your case. No one knows, not even my friends.” She whispered in harsh tones, begging desperately.  He considered her again. He nodded minutely. 

 

“As I have no other choice but to acquiesce… Deal. Though how are you going to hide your eyes?” She let out a shaky breath.

 

“I have a simple wordless spell that I cast over my eyes that can disguise people from seeing them change colors.” A grunt was what she got in response.

 

“Good, though I do have one more thing to ask…” Hermione eyed him timidly. Draco mutely indicated she could continue with her inquiry.

 

“How did the one who killed your parents come to his demise?” She knew the answer. She had known before she even asked. Werewolves protected their pack with a fierce passion. To harm a single hair on the loved ones of a werewolf meant swift and often vicious retribution. The culprit had murdered the parents of the  _ loup garou _ in front of her. She could readily imagine the psychotic and deranged wrath that was cast upon the miscreant. Hermione herself had felt insane rage when Ginny, Harry, or Ron were harmed in any manner. She just needed to hear it from him.

 

Draco’s grey orbs started to glow a little gold and he growled low, drawing the attention of the other witches and wizards closest to their huddle. His hands slithered around the bars, mindful of the spikes of his confinement. A metal squeal rent the air as he bent the iron a little. The spectating jury shrunk back in trepidation. 

 

“I believe you can deduce that conclusion for yourself,” He gritted out, teeth bared. It was not meant to be a challenge, he was only livid because of what the murderer had done, but Hermione’s wolf regarded it as such anyway. She had to fight with her lupine side for a moment, force it back into submission. He stared at her avidly as she wrangled with her demon, her face contorting this way and that. Her eyes went from brown to gold and then back again.  Finally, with the wolf sedated inside she threw him an exasperated glance.

 

“I know you are trying to be ambiguous, but please do watch what you say. The wolf perceives most of these non-lupine individuals as puppies snipping at my feet. They usually aren't worth the wolf's consideration. However, my demon is an alpha, and  from what I can tell, it recognizes that yours is as well. I can be reasoned with, but as you well know, the wolf cannot.” He concurred silently, his face devoid of any telling emotions.

 

“Also, mind your temper. Won't do us any favors if you scare the jury into thinking you are guilty. “

 

“Even though I am guilty of at least one of those murders?”

 

“Besides the point. Anyway, an eye for an eye in my personal opinion. I was suspect of your trial from the start. It seemed… off.”

 

“They may be trying to appear like they are acting on rectifying the situation by placing the blame solely on me instead of giving me the correct judgement.”

 

“I wouldn't doubt that and it doesn't help that you were Lucius’ son and a Death Eater yourself at one point. Maybe someone here is trying to get their justice by using your situation as leverage.” 

 

“Seems plausible.” Her wolf had been growling in her head since she had forced her down. How she was managing to restrain her beast was a marvel. It was also exhausting.

 

Given that she was in such close proximity to another werewolf, especially an alpha male who had just threatened her dominance,  her own beast was steadily growing harder to control. She seemed to want to come to the fore a great deal more than usual. This concerned Hermione. Merlin’s beard, she pleaded with the Fates that she could keep her lupine tendencies in check. 

 

She turned to face the judge, her back near the unyielding iron.  She felt the hair raise on the back of her neck when she sensed him lean close to her ear furthest away from the rest of the room. 

 

“I know you are struggling with your wolf. I would ‘show my belly’, but you know as well as I do my own would not allow that. However,  I'll do what I can to appeal to the both of them.” He whispered next to her ear. She shivered.  Her ears had always been a sensitive erogenous zone, but since she was bitten,  the case was even more so.  She recoiled in disgust at herself and her lip curled.

 

“Has the defense had enough time to discuss?” Both Draco and Hermione nodded. 

 

“Very good, let us proceed.”

 

Hermione gazed at the judge. 

 

This was going to be a long day.

  
  



End file.
